So far this year, Not To Disappear is my favorite album of the year, and Daughter performed a goodly part of it on KEXP. So why not highlight it?
I’ll admit it. Everyone once in a while, there comes along an album that isn’t just okay, an album that I don’t just like, but rather an album that I unabashedly love. For a lot of people, albums like this are usually pretty peppy with upbeat songs and messages. Well, I love Not To Disappear by Daughter, and it is not peppy and upbeat. Still, it is wonderful and beautiful and mesmerizing.
Daughter is a London based trio comprised of Elena Tonra, Igor Haefeli, and Remi Aguilella. Their first album, If You Leave, was one of my favorite ten albums on 2013, and has been in steady rotation in my playlist since then. This follow-up had, in my mind, a lot to live up to, and it does so magnificently.
It amazes me that this trio can get such variation in their sound, at once punchy and ethereal. Their lyrical storytelling is more certain this time around, and though their songs probe a number of dismal subjects – dementia, disconnection, loneliness – the music behind them buoys you through the storm. I have seen others review this album as dream pop, and I understand why though they have a hardened edge to them that can always threaten to burst the bubble that seems to come with that label.
Recommendation: BUY IT!
Songs that I have a playlist for: New Ways, Numbers, Alone/With You, Fossa, Made of Stone
Clunkers I will thumbs down – there is no such thing on this album. N/A
Daughter is an indie band that some classify folk, some as alt-rock, even some as dream pop. To me, it doesn’t matter what the genre is, I think they are a brilliant three-piece with wonderful lyrics and excellent composition. They have released 2 studio albums (If You Leave (2013) and Not To Disappear (2016)), and 4 EPs.
Fans of Skins might recognize this song. I love the way it starts out with a single guitar and a gentle lead into the cacophony in the middle of the song. This description of love from the point of view of the young is both plaintive and reassuring to those of us who remember it but have grown up enough that we can see that it isn’t that way for us anymore.